Rouse (Revenge Book 7)

by Trevion Burns

  And whoever was on the other side of that door couldn’t know that someone was still in the house.

  The bathroom door creaked open, and Gage held his gasping breath, clapping a hand over Celeste’s lips when her gasps didn’t ease up. He cut his eyes at her, saw her green orbs wide as saucers over his hand, and pursed his lips to silently shush her, the same way she had moments earlier.

  Silence.

  The silence was short-lived, however, filled almost instantly with the deep, even breathing of the man who’d just opened the door. Light spilled in from the master bedroom as the door continued squeaking open, gradually filling the dark bathroom in a dull yellow glow. The man’s shadow loomed against the shower wall opposite them, ebbing deeper, spreading wider as the door slowly creaked open. The silhouette of the pistol in his hand loomed too, as well as the circular silencer screwed onto the barrel.

  The stomp of boots recommenced—soles squeaking against the marble floors.

  His shadow grew nearer. Larger.

  Gage’s eyes spread wide as the shadow swelled, his chest growing tight. Celeste’s grip on his jacket grew tighter as well, and her body still shook. Every bone in Gage’s body wanted to crouch down a little further. If there was even a wisp of his hair visible above the half wall hiding them from view, that was their lives.

  But he didn’t dare move.

  The squeak of boots came to a stop halfway into the bathroom. The rapidly growing shadow froze as well, so tall now that it touched the ceiling.

  One more step, Gage knew, and the man would see the tip of his dress shoe. With his knees already pulled as deep into his chest as he could manage, Gage knew there was no way around it.

  Silence reigned, filled only by the man’s heavy breathing. His shadow stilled.

  Then, in the next instant, the shadow swiveled. It shrank. Smaller every second. The squeak of boots on tile growing softer until it was gone completely.

  Gage slowly removed his hand from Celeste’s lips once the shadow was gone, waiting until the stomp of boots had dissipated before he went to stand. Still holding his lapels in a death grip, Celeste tightened her fists, stopping him halfway with a rapid shake of her head, teeth bared.

  Gage pressed a finger against his lips before he peeked over the half wall he was sure had just saved their lives. When he saw that the coast was clear, he released his jacket from Celeste’s hold and began moving backward in the shower, holding a hand out to signal for her to stay put, his wide eyes never leaving the door of the bathroom.

  His back hit the wall on the opposite side of the shower, and only then did he turn to the large window that awaited him there. As quietly as he could, he flipped the latch that kept the window’s double doors secure and then swung them open. The night breeze blasted in, cooling his heated cheeks.

  Turning toward Celeste, who was still curled into a ball in the corner, Gage waved at her frantically.

  She leaped to her bare feet, her silky nightgown blowing with the breeze that was sneaking into the window as well as her jet-black hair—as she hurried across the shower on her tiptoes.

  When she was within arms reach, Gage took hold of her waist, bent down, and swept her off her feet, getting her legs through the open window with ease. Sitting on the window’s edge, half of her body outside, Celeste locked her arms around his neck, nearly cutting off his air supply.

  But he didn’t object. After shooting another cursory glance over his shoulder to make sure the bathroom and master bedroom were still empty, Gage unlocked her arms from around his neck and took fierce hold of her forearms. They both flexed, and for a moment, Celeste appeared in the midst of arguing, but she didn’t argue. Even as she looked down at the ground from the second-story window, down at the freshly cut grass of his backyard, and considered the fall, she didn’t fight him. She met his eyes and spoke to him without a word, taking hold of his forearms as well before letting her bottom slide off the edge of the window.

  Gage moved with her, promising with his eyes that he wouldn’t let her go until she was ready. And in seconds, she was hanging outside the window, swinging down from his arms, her watery green orbs watching him from where they had each other’s arms in a death grip.

  She took a deep breath, eyes still locked to his, and then gave a sharp nod.

  And Gage released her.

  As she fell to the grass below, biting back the scream he knew must be at the back of her throat, Gage already had one leg out the window. By the time Celeste hit the ground, landing clumsily onto the grass but quickly finding her footing, Gage had both legs out. Then it was him who was hanging, clutching the window’s edge as he swung down. He didn’t hesitate a moment before letting go, landing unsteadily, but still on both feet, stopping himself from tumbling forward by bracing his hands on the grass in front of him.

  Celeste snatched at his jacket and tugged, pulling him after her as she raced toward the backyard door, situated at the far end of the yard alongside the house.

  Their gasps were back as they raced across the grass, blasting through the backyard door and zooming down the side of the house. Gage’s matte black Phantom Coupe greeted them from the driveway in front of his house, and he fished his car keys out of his pocket as quietly as he could. He didn’t dare press the button that automatically unlocked all the doors to his vehicle, knowing it would cause a honk to sound and alert the man, still tip-toeing all over his house with a gun, to their presence.

  Circling the car, Gage unlocked the driver side door manually, as quietly as he could, and climbed inside, leaning across the console to unlock Celeste’s door as well.

  “Don’t close the door all the way,” Gage warned, not wanting to make any more noise than they had to as he shoved the key into the ignition and started the car.

  The state-of-the-art engine had always been quiet as a mouse, barely even a purr, but as it rumbled to life, making the leather seats shake, Gage felt like that damn engine was loud enough to be heard five blocks down. He didn’t dwell, however, too busy putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway at the speed of light, the front spoiler nearly smashing against the driveway as he zoomed out.

  Yanking the steering wheel with all his might, Gage slammed his foot on the ignition, his rear tires kicking up white smoke as the car barreled down the street and out of sight.

  ——

  Some time later, Coco’s bloodstained clothes were still damp from where Veda held them in a heap in her arms, making her long for a shower before it had a chance to dry on her skin. The metallic scent of Todd’s blood wafted up from the heap. Just subtle enough to barely tickle her nostrils but just strong enough to stick around, making her dry heave at the horrid smell. She pressed her lips together to fight back the sickness in her throat.

  Coco, sitting up on top of Veda’s red bedding, wearing plaid pajamas Veda had lent her for the night, gazed up at Veda and Linc. Her damp hair was pulled into a topknot, and her knees cuddled into her chest. She tugged the long sleeves of her pajama shirt down over her fingers as her eyes searched Linc’s face.

  Veda followed Coco’s eyes and looked at Linc, who stood beside her at the edge of the king sized bed. She studied his shadowed profile.

  Linc didn’t return Veda’s gaze, hands in his pockets as he raised his eyebrows down at Coco. “You and Veda had a girls night, and you fell asleep.”

  Nibbling her bottom lip, Coco nodded her head softly.

  “Say it,” Linc demanded.

  Coco’s horse voice rang out in a whisper. “Me and Veda had a girls night, and I fell asleep?”

  “Again, without the question mark,” Linc said.

  “Me and Veda had a girls night…” Coco’s eyes fell. “And I fell asleep.”

  “Eye contact.”

  She met Linc’s eyes. “Me and Veda had a girls night, and I fell asleep.”

  “If the police question you, that’s your story. They’ll try to discredit your alibi. They’ll try to confuse you and make you tell on yo
urself. They’ll pretend they know you’re lying. They’ll pretend they have evidence. Don’t waver. Stick to your story, no matter what, because Veda’s gonna corroborate it. If you crack, it’ll expose her.”

  New tears bubbled up in Coco’s eyes, biting her lip so hard she seemed seconds from gnawing it off, but she nodded again.

  Linc licked his lips. “Todd Lockwood was attacked last night. Where were you?”

  “I was at my friend, Veda’s. We had a girls night, and I fell asleep.”

  “We have proof you were still in the house when Todd was attacked.”

  “That’s not possible,” Coco faltered. “Because me and Veda were having a girls night. I wasn’t home.”

  “Then why did we find your fingerprints all over his body?” Linc’s deep voice hardened.

  Veda saw the exact moment when Coco wanted to jump in and refute. To tell Linc the same thing she’d told Veda earlier that night. To tell him that, while she had stabbed Todd multiple times, Coco hadn’t once laid a single hand on his body. That, for the entire duration of the attack, her hands had remained locked around the handles of the kitchen shears as she drove them into any part of his body she could get them. Coco wanted to tell Linc that Todd hadn’t even touched her skin, only her clothes. That he’d been frozen in shock from the moment she’d rammed the shears into his neck to the moment he’d hit the floor. She’d wanted to tell Linc that she’d even been wearing her Dad’s slippers, so not even her footprints would come up on the bloody kitchen tile. She wanted to tell him that, even as she’d panicked and fled the house, she’d still had the presence of mind to use a kitchen towel to open the door to the house and the door to her car as well.

  “I was at Veda’s.” Coco kept her cool.

  “We have your prints all over the kitchen.”

  Coco smirked. “Obviously. I live there.”

  “Don’t be cocky,” Linc said. “You’re a terrible liar, and they’ll smell it on you. Going over the top will only amplify it. Keep it simple. Todd’s the only person who can name you, and he’s in a coma, so there’s no reason to get fancy or cute. Just answer the questions as straightforwardly as possible.”

  “Okay. Sorry.”

  Linc searched her face. “Don’t be sorry.”

  “Linc’s coming off harsh because he cares,” Veda jumped in, fighting to ignore the fire in her heart as she replayed the nightmare Coco had just lived for the millionth time in her mind. “He’s not trying to hurt your feelings. You were defending yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. That son of a bitch got what he deserved. I should’ve done it myself. When I had the chance.”

  Linc cut his eyes at Veda.

  Coco’s brows pinched. “When you had the chance?”

  Veda’s heart zoomed to a stop at the words she’d just said. Realizing she was on the verge of breaking Linc’s rule—saying too much—she shifted.

  “You look exhausted,” Veda said, stepping in front of Linc, vaguely aware of his rock-hard body brushing hers from behind as she did and hearing his rapid inhalation of breath. She leaned sideways toward the bedside table and let her hand linger over the lever of the lamp, realizing that Coco looked the farthest thing from exhausted. In fact, with those wide eyes, that ashen skin, and those trembling bones, Coco looked like she might never sleep again. “Lights on, or off?”

  “Off,” Coco whispered.

  Veda noticed when the hardness of Linc’s body, as well as its warmth, disappeared from behind her, followed by his heavy stomps as he left the room.

  Bunching the bloody clothes on one arm, Veda tucked Coco in with the other, waiting until she was snug as a bug with the sheets and blanket pulled all the way up to her chin, leaving only her face visible.

  “I’m gonna take care of everything,” Veda repeated the vow she’d been reciting to Coco all night. “You didn’t leave behind any prints. Todd never touched your skin. Linc’s already swept your car. Cleaned it out like only a cop could. The tub too. If there were any way for the police to link this to you, he would’ve found it. He hasn’t, which means they have nothing.”

  “Why didn’t Linc arrest me? Turn me in? Doesn’t he have quotas and stuff?”

  Veda swallowed thickly. “He’s not like that.” If he were, I’d be in the jail cell right next to you. “He understands that the world isn’t black-and-white—but drowning in shades of gray. And, right now, you’re drowning in the biggest, grayest ocean in existence.” Right next to me.

  Coco’s full lips managed a tiny smile.

  Veda’s eyes fell to watch it happen, determined to inspire many more. “And just like me, he’s going to be here for you every step of the way. You’re gonna be just fine.”

  Coco reached up from under the sheets Veda had just tucked her tightly into, clutching the edges with the tips of her fingers. “What if Todd wakes up?”

  Veda’s jaw tightened. “He won’t.”

  For a moment, Coco seemed on the verge of firing off a million more questions, but instead, she gave a soft nod, and her eyes slowly fluttered shut.

  Veda waited until Coco’s eyes had been shut for over a minute before she turned off the bedside light, drowning the bedroom in darkness. Encased in shadows, she waited for Coco’s breathing to slow, realizing she really must’ve been exhausted because just seconds after flipping off the light, her deep breathing was bouncing off the walls.

  9

  Veda closed the door to the bedroom and made her way into the living area, her stride slowing when she caught sight of Linc, crouched at the fireplace in the corner of her living room. The fireplace she’d rarely utilized but now crackled with flames that ebbed from orange to yellow, filling the room with a tranquil glow. Flickering as it licked the bricks inside and filled the room with cozy heat.

  Linc, however, looked the farthest thing from cozy, leaning on his bent knees with his face buried in his hands. His biceps tightened and relaxed every other second as if he couldn’t decide whether or not he was going to give in to whatever explosion was brewing beneath his pulsing skin. His chest heaved under his bloodstained t-shirt non-stop, causing his deep, heavy sighs to reverberate all over the room.

  Veda couldn’t blame Linc for being on edge. In one night he’d caught her red-handed, become an accomplice to a teenager who'd put her rapist half-brother into a coma, tracked a container full of trafficked kids to the back of a lorry truck, and still didn’t know the status of the one person alive who knew where that container had originated. That night was quickly proving to be the worst night of all their lives, in more ways than one.

  So no.

  Veda didn’t blame Linc for looking on the verge of complete collapse.

  She was almost there herself.

  She thought of Gage, and her eyes flew shut. After the news of the underage stowaways being found, Linc had called Gage and told him to get out of town. They hadn’t heard a peep from Gage since. A part of Veda was selfishly thankful that Coco’s world had been turned upside down that night. It had served as a much-needed distraction from the gut-churning thought of Gage being hurt in any way. Hurt because he’d been so desperate to prove to Veda that he could be a strong man, a strong provider, that he’d gone rogue on his own family. On a covert mission to find the secrets that had been plaguing his family name for years. Following the clouds of jet-black smoke that would eventually lead to the fire.

  If anything happens to him… it’s your fault. Veda tried not to linger on that thought. She couldn’t think about what she’d do if anything happened to Gage. How she’d ever go on living. How she’d handle even more guilt being added to the mountain that already resided on her shoulders.

  She pursed her lips, exhaling heavily.

  Linc looked up from his hands at the sound, meeting her eyes across the room.

  She froze as their gazes locked, frowning at the darkness in his eyes. What in the world was going on in that man’s head? Sure, Linc had always been closed off. Impatient. Downright surly. But that evening, it was
at another level. She knew it had nothing to do with her or even Coco.

  Linc reached out an arm. “Is that everything?”

  Veda skipped a beat and then made her way over to him, handing him the heap of Coco’s clothes that was still in her arms. He set the heap on his lap and fished out Coco’s white t-shirt first. Covered in blood, it looked a lot like the shirt he was wearing right then. As if he’d made that same connection in his mind, he cringed and tossed the shirt into the fireplace, causing the flames to peter out for a moment before they rebounded, encasing the cotton in heat, eating it alive, and reducing it to ash in minutes.

  Veda crouched next to him, the heat of the fire warming her cheeks, watching as he picked up the wrought iron fireplace poker he’d sat on the floor next to him. He used the long poker’s sharpened end to move the t-shirt around the fire, making sure it was incinerated before he launched Coco’s jeans in next, followed by the large Nike slippers she’d informed them were her father’s.

  “Thank you, Linc,” Veda said softly. She went to explain exactly why she was thanking him but didn’t even know where to begin. Thank you for saving my life? Thank you for not putting me under arrest? Thank you for aiding and abetting the underage assailant cuddled up under my bed sheets right now? Explaining why she was thankful to Linc was a monologue that could go on for hours, and something about his disposition right then made it clear he wasn’t feeling especially chatty.

  To drive that point home, he blinked lazily, staring blankly ahead without response.